


Shoes and accessories don't count

by Эlиs (lenokkk)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drinking Games, F/M, Hermione is a good girl, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-War, Romance, or is she?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27602021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lenokkk/pseuds/%D0%ADl%D0%B8s
Summary: When did their harmless party in the Hufflepuff Common Room turn into a series of bizarre actions? Perhaps it all started when Hermione took a seat across from Malfoy.***Hermione didn't hear any of it. There was only the roaring of her pulse in her ears and an echo of the voice that had sounded indulgent, soft, and almost gentle.A good girl. A good girl. Too much of a good girl.This was not just a challenge, but a direct declaration of war.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 23
Kudos: 200





	Shoes and accessories don't count

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Обувь и аксессуары не в счёт](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/714380) by Сумасшедшенькая Лиса. 



> Thanks to my alpha/beta anne_ammons for the patience with editing and to the actual author of this work.

The Head Tower was wrapped in silence broken only by crackling logs, scratching of a quill and even breathing of boys bent over a table.

Three columns inscribed in neat handwriting appeared on a parchment one by one. Hermione hastily added the last name  _ Hannah Abbott _ and looked up at Harry with a question in her eyes.

“That makes only five from Hufflepuff,” he mused, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

Ernie Macmillan brushed his hair back from his face and took on a rather official tone.

“But I guarantee that all five students are going to be at our meeting.”

Ron wiggled his eyebrows, then said abruptly, bringing him down.

“I bet they are, idiot. It's gonna be in the Hufflepuff Common Room, isn’t it?”

Hermione and Harry burst into laughter at the same time.

“We can meet at Gryffindor's!” bristled Ernie. “You think we'll chicken out if asked to break the curfew?”

“Not a chance,” Hermione sounded indignant. “We need permission from the Head of a House and I am not going to embarrass myself in front of Professor McGonagall again. Besides,” she said, voice now calm, looking pointedly at Ernie, “it's far easier to reach out to Professor Sprout.”

“Right,” he begrudgingly agreed. “So, what's about Slytherins?”

“A lost cause,” Ron yawned. “I reckon, these snakes would never slither into your cosy little badger burrow.”

Hermione let out a heavy sigh. No matter how much she wanted to support Harry's idea, deep down she sympathized with Ron. After the war, only a few of the seventh year students chose to return to Hogwarts to finish their education. There were only three members of their class from Slytherin — Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy.

Harry shook his head. The glow of the fire was reflected on his glasses and served to emphasize his words.

“They will be there-” there was no doubt in his words, “-if we approach them the right way.”

“Harry...” Ron sounded resigned. “Do you really want to bother?”

“That's the whole point!” he wildly gestured. “Did you forget what had happened in September? Two of four first-years had cried when the Sorting Hat had sent them to Slytherin.” There was steel in his voice. 

Ron's expression twisted into a grimace. 

“We have to get along with them, set a good example, show that they aren't pariahs, but students like us,” Harry suddenly shook his head. “I wish the House of the cunning and ambitious hadn't become viewed as one of the despised and evil.”

“As if they aren't,” Ron  interjected .

“Severus Snape was a Slytherin.” Harry's voice was soft.

The horrid and cruel death of their former Professor flashed through Hermione's mind. She felt a shiver creep down her spine at the thought, though the room was warm. The war they longed to leave behind passed right through them like a ghost and for one moment was all too real again, as if it had ended just yesterday.

Clearing her throat, Hermione  spoke up to break the tension .

“Harry, you said we need to approach them the right way,” she awkwardly changed the subject. “What do you mean?”

He didn't look at her, instead he jerked his head slightly, then picked his bag up and shoved his hand inside.

“I think we need something intriguing, something... I don't know, cool,” he shrugged, his hand came up from the bag revealing a simple pack of muggle playing cards.

“Harry!” despite her indignation she couldn't stifle her curiosity. “Gambling in Hogwarts! Where did you get them?”

“Well, actually...” he scratched his head in a rather abashed manner. “I borrowed the deck from Seamus.”

“Did you tell him all about it earlier than us?” Ron elbowed Harry in the ribs in mock offense. “Is he your new best friend now, then?”

“No, I only borrowed— Just listen!” Harry said impatiently, pulling one card from the pack. “If we change a suit to a yellow badger on the black background, indicating the date and time on the opposite side...”

He pressed the card into his palm carefully holding it between his fingers as a magician doing a trick, then stretched it out to Ernie. Seemingly confused, Ernie shook his hand and when pulled free, he examined with interest the card that had been left in his own palm. Harry gave them a crooked smile.

“I will handle Slytherins, bring them invitations. Then, probably—”

“Great idea, Harry!” Ernie exclaimed, momentarily forgetting to keep up his intention to be pompous.

“Yeah, sounds really good!” Ron said, clearly inspired by the prospect. “Give me these cards, I'll fetch Dean, he'll do the invitations. You won't believe what he can come up with...”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione heaved a sigh. She wrote down three more names, then looked up at the boys heading out and cleared her throat,  recapturing  their attention.

“Did it occur to you that we're yet to decide what we'll be doing actually when everyone comes?”

Harry and Ron stopped short as they exchanged a puzzled look. Ernie appeared at her side, tugged the parchment with the list of participants from under her arm and gave her a charming smile.

“Leave that to us,” his grin grew wider, and Hermione thought that never in her life  had she seen a smile so big on his face . “Let the Hufflepuffs take care of it, inter-house unity and all...”

He also took a few of the playing cards from Ron and examined them carefully from both sides, before waving his hand in farewell.

“Just send the invitations and come to our Common Room on Saturday after the curfew.”

Hermione thought his behavior was rather suspicious and couldn’t avoid reflecting it in her face. That might be why Ernie cast another glance over his shoulder and— had he just winked at her? A heartbeat later the portrait slid shut behind him.

An odd thought struck her. She had never really seen Ernie wink at someone. Then came another thought that sent a shiver down her spine.

This wouldn't end well.

***

Hermione had to give them credit — the Hufflepuffs had done a good job. By the appointed time, the Common Room had been cleared of younger students, pillows were laid out so one could sit right on the fluffy carpet, and various refreshments had been placed on low tables. They had even enchanted candles floated above their heads; the dim lighting almost created an intimate atmosphere.

She somehow ended up sitting across from the Slytherins. After Harry had given his short welcome speech and Ernie had demonstrated the familiar pack of playing cards explaining the rules of the game, twenty students settled down in the middle of the room, forming an uneven circle, and Hermione found herself facing Zabini, Parkinson and Malfoy. What a privilege, really. Feeling the curious stares of everyone around, she looked at the card she had pulled from the pack only seconds ago, and forced herself to read the words out loud.

“Every time another player drinks, you should make a moan of pleasure.” Frowning at Ernie, she added, “One round.”

The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs couldn’t contain their grins. Even Ron, Harry, Seamus and Dean were glancing at one another trying to suppress their laughter. Ginny encouraged her with her eyes, Neville seemed to blush, and Luna at her right was still twisting her own card in her fingers. There was no comparison between saying a tongue twister and what Hermione was now being asked to do.

“I don't want to do it,” Hermione insisted,  giving Ernie a look of death .

“Then,” a bottle appeared from behind his back, and he threw it into her hands, “drink.”

There was amber liquid sloshing in the bottle that had previously contained butterbeer. Placing it on the carpet beside her, Hermione made a face.

“I'm not going to drink Firewhiskey.”

“Then do the task. That's how the rules work,” Ernie shrugged but given her doubtful expression, he let his impatience show. “Come on, Hermione, it's just a round! Maybe everyone will get simple tasks, and no one will have to drink.

“Fine!” she snapped, shifting on her pillow. She could only pray to Merlin that would be the case.

After her, Neville chose a card and with a sigh of relief recited a short poem. Hannah had to spend five minutes with her tongue stuck out, and Anthony Goldstein did the boogie woogie dance to bursts of laughter. One by one, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws each completed their dares grinning madly until the atmosphere was one of merriment and ease. When Malfoy joined the game, Hermione, who had relaxed a little, braced herself waiting and watching as he idly pulled a card from the deck. His eyes skimmed over the words, and in the moment of silence that followed he said dryly, “Ten push-ups.”

Hermione released a breath. This round would end in no time, there were better odds of surviving this without shame. Maybe she wouldn't even have to do this stupid—

Smirking at her, Malfoy suddenly broke open the bottle, saluted her in an  impudent  manner and closed his lips around the bottle's neck. Hermione watched, transfixed, as his Adam's apple bobbed twice as he gulped, then he smiled and reached for a chocolate to toss it into his mouth. All the time his mocking eyes didn't leave her face.

This was a challenge.

“Granger!” said Pansy in a sing-song voice. “Ready to share the most passionate moan you can manage?”

There was a murmur of agreement from the students, one of the Ravenclaws even laughed and clapped his hands a little too loud. Hermione couldn't help staring at the smug Slytherin sitting on the opposite side.

“You could've easily done those push-ups,” she hissed like a frying pan with oil, ignoring the others in the room.

“I could have,” he nodded in agreement, a strand of hair falling over his forehead.

Hermione buried her face in her hands.

It was against her principles to not perform this task as dutifully as she would have done any other. Moreover, no one else had made a fuss; everyone else was playing along with the rules of the game, even Malfoy. Damn him. It was incredibly unfair that the worst card of the pack had happened to fall into her hands.

Regardless of what she was struggling with, her classmates would have their own opinions .

“You can always say no and just drink it,” came soft Luna's voice as the girl touched her shoulder.

Hermione took her hands from her face and nodded, leaning forward to get the bottle. Low murmurs swept through the room and she could hear others comments. __

_ Total loss _ .

_ What a task to screw up! _

And a taunting  _ I knew it! _ reached her ears.

With her eyes fixed on Malfoy, Hermione mirrored his earlier actions. Two quick gulps of the drink burned down her throat, but she willed herself not to wince at the taste of it. She popped an apple slice into her mouth, chewed it hastily and left the bottle on the floor. Malfoy, looking bored, turned his attention to Zabini who had already taken the next card, but Hermione, blushing furiously, held her forefingers up, making everyone stop and look at her.

She was definitely aware of what kind of moan could be considered passionate. She took a deep breath and parted her lips to try to make some kind of a sound that would match her own fantasies, but her throat felt too thick. For a moment she thought she was going to stay silent, but then a long or even slightly pleading moan pierced through the silence of the room.

“A-a-ah!”

Michael Corner choked on his scone. Ginny grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. Harry and Ron averted their eyes sheepishly, but the rest of the group broke into laughter, cheering and applauding.

Luna leaned closer. “You know you didn't need to do both?”

“Of course,” Hermione whispered in the same low voice.

“I thought as much.”

Even when the low buzz of conversation died down and Zabini read aloud lines on his card, she knew Malfoy hadn’t looked away from her. Once again, she turned her attention to him and caught him looking at her with a scrutinizing gaze and she responded by sticking her tongue out at him.

Draco blinked, lowered his gaze, and gave a gentle laugh.

His reaction set off a whirlwind of emotions which Hermione tried to hide. She felt both righteous anger, but also delight as warmth and excitement flooded her chest, particularly when she saw Draco mouthed to her silently, “Game.”

By the time it was her turn again, Hermione had come up with a million dreadful tasks that she would have to complete. It was probably why she was disappointed, when she drew a card with an ordinary instruction  _ Whisper for five minutes _ . Clearly, that was the very reason and not because Malfoy was staring at her with unabashed interest, waiting.

However, his card was quite simple as well. Draco had to begrudgingly exchange his shoes with Blaise. He complained about how they squeezed his toes, but when Ernie figured out Malfoy's card, his voice was quite enthusiastic.

“Now, it's going to be a lot more fun!”

Hermione shuddered.

Ron’s card directed him to share some saucy details of his love life, and he launched into stories about his countless Muggle girlfriends. Pansy was the one to interrupt his rant. Acting surprised, she loudly turned to Blaise with a snarky remark, “I didn't know Muggles hit it off with idiots.”

There were bursts of laughter coming from Ginny, but she instantly fell quiet when she pulled her card.

Harry looked over her shoulder, his eyes widening. He asked warily, “Ginny, you're sure—”

But Ginny,  Gryffindor that she was , read the line with red tinged cheeks.

“Wild dancing on another player's lap.”

The room erupted in yelping, cheers and Seamus and Dean singing Celestina Warbeck's  _ You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me _ . Now it was Ron’s turn to shout over the noise.

“Stop it, stop it! Ginny, for Merlin's sake, get off Harry!”

Only a minute later, a rattled but awfully pleased Potter pulled himself to a more comfortable position, adjusted his glasses and put his arm around a somewhat breathless Ginny.

By the time the deck returned to Hermione, it was rather thin. Her cheeks hurt from all the laughter, her eyes sparkled with excitement, and the barely-opened bottle of Firewhiskey was now two-thirds empty. Her fingers twisted a card with a badger on it in a now familiar way, and Hermione lowered her eyes to the glossy black side with a smile. The yellow letters shone with gold, and her grin slipped from her face, giving way to pure horror. Holding her breath, Hermione looked up to see Draco Malfoy gazing at her. He didn't even bother to hide his interest and gave the impression of a man who was about to unwrap his Christmas presents. Luna peered at her card.

“Take off one piece of clothing,” the girl's clear voice by her ear said. “Shoes and accessories don't count _. _ Such a curious task.”

The murmuring grew to a great roar. Hermione could feel the eyes of everyone on her, eager to see what she would do. She slammed her eyes shut.

Blouse. Skirt. Tights. Underwear. Blouse. Skirt. Tights. Underwear.

The same four images flashed behind her eyelids as she struggled to find a way out.

Hair clasp? No, it was an accessory. Shoes? Everyone already knew they didn't count. She could have argued that a tie was a piece of clothing, if not for the fact that she had taken it off along with her cloak and left them in her bag long ago. There must be something, something else—

Meanwhile, an indistinct chorus of voices turned into distinct exclamations.

“Take off your skirt, Granger!”

“Come on, this blouse doesn't suit you!”

“Hey, take the bottle away from her!”

Hermione’s face flushed and her head spun. She was drunk already, for sure, but not  _ that _ drunk. She wasn't about to strip in front of everyone and let her good name be dragged through the mud. As her pulse drummed and a shuddering breath left her lips, there came a voice that silenced all the others.

Draco Malfoy had picked up a miraculous ability from Severus Snape — however noisy it was in a room, his quiet, almost insinuating tone made everyone turn down the volume and pay attention. Hermione considered this to be a true gift — a voice that could cut through anything else, as if the few words he chose to share carried more weight than anyone else’s. And Draco fucking Malfoy, a former Death Eater, a man who almost everyone still avoided and had been quiet for almost the entire evening, said simply, “Are you all insane?”

The noise ceased. As she opened her eyes, she was welcomed by Malfoy's cocky smirk. 

“Granger is too much of a good girl. Ten galleons says she won't show an inch of bare skin.”

His words had the effect of the Sonorus Charm being cast on the whole crowd. The uproar might have woken up the castle if not for the amount of silencing charms that had already been cast on the room. Zacharias Smith jumped in exclaiming that he was ready to accept bets; Anthony Goldstein, forgot his disdain for Slytherins and dove headlong into some sort of heated argument; and Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and Ginny Weasley cried out against discrimination and sexism, each in her own way. 

Hermione didn't hear any of it. There was only the roaring of her pulse in her ears and an echo of the voice that had sounded indulgent, soft, and almost gentle.

_ A good girl. A good girl. Too much of a good girl. _

This was not just a challenge, but a direct declaration of war. Malfoy tilted his head slightly and lifted his brows in a silent question. There was a glint in his eyes that was so tempting and hazardous, provoking her to indulge. Did one trade the Queen to checkmate the enemy King?

Her eyes narrowed.

Besides, hell if he knew her.

The world spun around as Hermione slowly stood, trying to not lose her balance. One by one, her black shoes hit the floor with a soft thud. She knew that if she looked at Ron or Harry, if she were distracted for only a moment, that desperate recklessness that granted her freedom would instantly disappear.

Straightening up, she paused, suddenly feeling shy. She met Malfoy's eyes boring into her, his gaze a rickety bridge, but the only one for her to cross. With her arms bent, Hermione slipped her fingers under the hem of her school skirt, the fabric slightly hitched up at her sides. As she did so, Draco leaned forward almost imperceptibly, the hard line of his mouth relaxed and his smirk faded as he parted his lips as if to breathe or say something. Hermione thought with a sense of triumph that it was the first time in years that she had seen him like this, incredibly vibrant and intense, with no control over his emotions.

Sliding her thumbs under the waistband, she tugged her thin black tights down to her knees and then lower in complete silence. The tender skin of her thighs was ivory in the semi-darkness of the room illuminated only by hovering lights. She bent even further and carefully peeled the tights off, then finally stood up straight with her bare feet on the carpet.

The moment of the ringing silence was broken by Pansy's languid voice.

“Oh boy, Granger has legs!”

To Hermione's immense surprise, Parkinson suddenly brought her index fingers to her lips in a completely non-girlish way, took a deep breath and let out a wolf whistle.

The world snapped back into its normal pace. The guys started whistling also while the girls shouted their support. Ron and Harry shook their heads grinning, and Justin yelled a toast, although Hermione only caught bits of it. _Once more_... _the best party..._ _strip off!_

There were a myriad of cries around the room in response.

Hermione handed the remaining cards to Neville, then settled down onto her pillow, flashing her bare knees. As her eyes locked with Malfoy, she smiled brilliantly and mouthed the words, “Your move.”

A feral grin on his face sent a chill down her spine.

The night had turned crazy long ago and now, when there were only enough cards left for two rounds at best, it was bordering on becoming legendary. Neville, this new grown up and matured during the war Neville, cast a sideways glance at Luna while answering a question about Amortentia. Terry Booth massaged Susan Bones's shoulders which was accompanied by loud cheers from their classmates. Ernie pulled out a card that said  _ Give a player a love bite _ , took a sip from the bottle in shame instead and then hushed the indignant for another minute.

Hermione felt a flutter of anticipation inside her chest, a heat spreading in its wake, when it came time for Draco to draw his card, but as he did he snorted, disappointed, and threw it on a coffee table.

“Close your eyes for a round.”

Hermione nearly groaned, feeling helpless. It was absolutely unfair — such a simple card should have been played at the beginning, not at the very end. Malfoy exchanged a quick glance with her before he shrugged and reluctantly loosened his green and silver tie to use it as a blindfold. Hermione gave a wistful sigh.

Dean had to swap his trousers with Seamus while  listening to rather colourful remarks and running commentary by some combination of Pansy, Ginny and Hannah who had plenty to say about them both . Harry needed to pronounce ten spells without mistakes, but he screwed up royally as he loudly announced the proud  _ Petrificus Suckalus _ .

Hermione's eyes, as if magnetized, kept returning to Malfoy. Her head was full of thoughts which she seemed to be unable to control. She was curious as to what was on his mind, what it was that he wanted, and whether he might envision her behind his closed lids.

Her fingers found the glass, and the surroundings melted into the background. The liquid caught the light, sparkled like amber as Hermione wrapped her lips about the heated rim of the bottle. She had never been so at ease and loosened up. The last sip of Firewhiskey didn't burn down to the pit of her stomach, but coated her tongue  with a feeling of warmth. Looking up again, she saw Malfoy move a little closer. He was now holding his head up as if he could see her through the fabric directly. A hand with the remaining cards appeared in front of her.

“Your turn,” Luna sang out.

Almost like in a dream, Hermione reached out and picked up a card. The yellow line describing the task was awfully short, clipped, succinct and lethal like a bullet.

_ Kiss any player. _

Hermione blinked. She twisted the card as if its back should have revealed another dare. The wild thrumming of her heartbeat matched the whirling of her thoughts, but Luna, insufferable girl, was looking over Hermione's shoulder again.

“Ki—”

“Hush!” Hermione hissed so loudly that not only did Luna stop speaking, but the rest of the group went silent as well.

Her heart leapt into her throat as she staggered to her feet, then thumped a mile a minute as she stepped forward. The card fluttered to the floor like a leaf in autumn and those who sat nearby eyed it with interest.

“No way...” Hannah said as Hermione took another step.

“You've gone mad!” Neville cried as she rounded the low table swaying her hips.

“Hermione-” Ron called, but to no avail.

The only thing she could see now was a bewildered expression on Malfoy's face. The only thing she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears, but his words echoed in her mind too.

_ Ten galleons. _

_ Too much of a good girl. _

_ Game. _

Malfoy’s expression turned into a frown. He even raised his hands and pulled his tie off to see what was going on. Unfortunately for him, it was too late.

She was  crouched  right in front of him, unbearably close, her eyes burned with fervour and fire. Her pupils were dilated, almost hiding the intense brown of her irises.

The world shattered to shards around them when Hermione breathed raggedly to his lips.

“Game?”


End file.
